Rotting Obsession
by hypnotic-sleeptalk
Summary: A year after the Summer Camp incident, Chester reappears, has his condition stabilised, and him and Abby start dating. Their relationship was one filled with not just ups and downs, but cuts and edges, and it didn't end well. Now, Abby's gotten just as twisted as Kid Rot himself. Rated M for coarse language, violence/gore, and rough sex.
1. Chapter 1

Guilt and pleasure spiked my chest - I wasn't sure which was stronger but either way, the adrenaline and anxiety made a nice mix. It pushed me to keep on with what I was doing, as I strode by over the headboard of his bed. Trailing my fingers over the top of the smooth, curved bump of the wood, I could see the outline of his silhouette in the dark. His skin seemed to glow under the blueish hue of the moonlight, seeping through his curtains. His somewhat childish, yet angelic features were soft like a baby's as he slept on his side, face half-buried in his cotton pillow. My contempt for him slowly unfurled.

That face; I couldn't help but watch, study it, all while being infuriatingly aware of what a cliche situation this was - your average creep in a trashy romance novel. You know, the kind that glorifies little bitches being watched and by their psychopathic stalkers, who somehow always look toned, fit and handsome for a character meant to be a sleep deprived recluse. Oh but _fuck it, no one has to know._

When he wasn't being mentally fucked over and totally dominated by Kid Rot, Chester was pretty cute. When the colour wasn't drained from his face like a post-chemo cancer patient, his cheeks looked full and healthy even under the eerie blue of the night. I ran my fingers through his honey-blond tresses… The texture soothed the tips of my fingers, and shivered my core. I grinned to myself. A boy with a rotting parasyte in his body had better hair than Paige the plastic bitch, who spends hours doing her hair everyday, mind you.

He was in a surprisingly rosy condition for a part-time villain, who pranced through twiggy dens to get his corrosive hands on whatever he could find, as his hobby. Thinking back to when I first met him, his features were now more chiseled than before, even for a cherub faced little thing. His eyes were slightly more sunken in, brow bones defined, and the edges of his lips refined and sealed shut. He had grown sharper, physically. Oh, the formation of beauty over time.

But back to the situation, here I was, an intruder in this boy's bedroom at 03:xxAM, not quite sure what I wanted to do with him or _it - Kid Rot,_ for the matter… or the knife gripped in my left hand. Still, you'd have no idea how awfully excited I was, by the fact that I had infiltrated his _bedroom_ , where a human's deepest and most corrupted secrets lay buried - god fuck me if I wasn't trembling with thrill, or even a little bit turned on by the situation. Yep, Kid Rot's grown onto me a little… I wouldn't be surprised, looking at this situation itself.

All the lines I could imagine him throwing at me in that whiny voice, as I'd have him cowering in the corner. He wouldn't even be bleeding a drop of blood yet, let alone be touched by the thin edge of my blade… Yet he'd just be fully drenched in sweat and fear. The beauty of imagination, and the power of fear. The clichéd joy of revenge on an abusive ex - I shuddered, as the word ' _boyfriend_ ' grazed my mind. Funny, huh? You wouldn't have expected that seemingly compassionate, harmless little science geek to be abusive, I know. But you'll understand what happened, soon.

Why was it that humans glorified it, this idea of being someone's property so much? But I wasn't really one to talk, either, considering how I've had this baby-faced pretty boy shove his tongue down my throat, and grind his perfect little body all up against me on a bed, once upon a time.

After two, three years of being alone trying to forget everything, engulfed in the craze of lying to myself, trying to make my own false memories, pulling my hair and screaming into the bed for nights, I just… _fuck it._ It was so tiring. Every second I had alone, I would scream, cry, or choke myself as though I were possessed, with only half a conscious mind. _Ha! I guess Kid Rot really_ has _grown onto me, a bit. Just a bit._

Drawing back my lips, I slicked my tongue along them in a delicious grin. Savour this moment, keep it raw. Hell, if my memories with him were so shit that I convinced myself to make false ones, trying to forget everything, at least _this_ was definitely worth remembering.

* * *

A womanly scream rang from the second floor of a burning, two-story house, ablaze in yellow and crimson.

Behind several layers of walls on that very floor, visible to no one, stood the owner of that scream, trapped in her bedroom. Dark locks stuck to her nape and her cheeks, matted with sweat. She was frantically trying all possible options to get out of the room, no matter how vain those efforts were. No matter the locked doorknob. No matter the hard, impenetrable wood of the door. No matter her aching, sweaty fists banging on it. No matter how loud her screams, how glossy and wet it made her eyes, how dry and painful her throat got.

The black smoke crawled, clung to her skin, killing all traces of light in her vision. Unlike the woman's attempt to evacuate, the smoke effortlessly seeped in, rooted, and thrived in her lungs like a toxic tree.

Outside, the faint wind resided as it washed away fluffs of clouds in the indigo sky. Not a single soul could hear her shrieks and screams, because they couldn't get past the walls or flames in that house.

Oh _god, the look of despair on his face_ … It got me so hot and bothered - if he didn't look so distraught and traumatised by the death of his own mother, I'd be damn furious at myself for failing to wipe out the entire family. But God, fuck me. I could just stay put in the driver's seat like this, and probably make myself climax from just watching that weak boy howl and beg for the saviour of his mother. His daddy sure was lucky to be split out of the picture.

I had came to their place at the wrong timing.

His family only consisted of so many people. While the rest of them were off frolicking about in their own business, studying, gaming, napping, I'd have to use his mummy to make it look like a cooking mishap. It was around 17:38, so she would usually make dinner around that hour. I had stopped by every evening to look at what she'd be cooking up just to find the perfect opportunity. But tonight, she was using the oven, and she left it running on for a bit so she could go upstairs and read.

Having climbed into her room earlier, the glass of water that I so-very-strategically placed on her bedside table wouldn't exactly be just _pure_ water, now, would it? So while she'd be flipping through a book seated blissfully on the sheets, I'd pray for the best as I watched with the little camera I embedded in her closet, and, oh… What luck. Angel boy's mom took the whole glass down, and naturally, her eyes would droop, and she'd fall into her pillows out cold. It was then that I'd go back in, pluck out the camera, and send that house to hell, starting from the kitchen.

All thanks to working as a former grossologist, I managed to steal both the camera and the toxins from Paul - I could've bought or brewed them both myself but, what the hell, it was too much of a hassle.

Things would have gone perfectly, had my estimates not slipped up, and had his brother not been sharper than I thought with his surroundings, and had that brat actually come home from whatever he was out doing. So, I guess that was A-plus timing for me. _Oops_.

Around 18:42, the entire first floor and half the second was ablaze - partly from the fire crawling up the walls, and because i left some more flammable substances in mum's room (hey, her death needed to be guaranteed) - and the older boy - who looked around twenty - had dashed out, shouting over the phone for the authorities to help. He also called his little brother, predictably, and in no more than ten minutes, my main prey had sprinted to the scene, the colour drained from his face, as if Kid Rot had taken over his thoughts the second he caught sight of the house on fire.

Oh, _fuck_ me. That look, that one, right there. It was fucking perfect, the way his jaw dropped, lips trembling as he just knew he couldn't do jack shit, standing there watching his home burn down. I entertained myself with the additional thought that he was doing his hardest not to let his parasitic alter ego take control amidst his despair, knowing his mother was trapped in there.

 _Complain, bicker to me, use your shitty excuses now, for being a helpless shit head, won't you?_ The thought made me smirk, as a faintly euphoric feeling began to blossom in my chest. I had no need of banishing my sick habits, or feeling sympathy for a human who couldn't treat anyone or themselves right. This was exactly what a pathetic bloke like him deserved, especially if he felt the need to unleash it on the one closest to him.

It made me cringe in my seat, watching in the distance. Never had I ever been so glad to get out of a relationship - the idea of being someone's property, especially that of a verbally, psychologically abusive, hypocritical piece of shit… Use or be used. A few months after we started dating (after Paul managed to help mitigate his condition, God knew why he decided to come back to Ringworm after the incident at summer camp.) he started losing his temper quicker, needlessly shouting at me and blaming me for stupid things. I wouldn't have given a shit about it - no, I do give a shit about it, but I wouldn't have minded it as much, had this not happened nearly every goddamned day of our relationship. Maybe it was partly because Kid Rot was growing in him, but this kid obviously had a history of isolation and bullying - he would even use that as an excuse for his frustration sometimes. So what? Ty and I both went through the same thing, being the only two science geeks in Ringworm High. Man, I thought he was actually different, too. I would laugh like a bitch at how naive I was, if I wasn't sitting in this car trying to be discreet from my prey.

From Paige and her pathetic brainless sidekicks, the clueless idiots at school, that credit-stealing director at the Grossology department, and all those tacky mastermind-villain wannabes we had to protect our shitty town from. Oh yeah, he was certainly different. The whole town was filled with slow imbeciles with no appreciation for science or anything at all, other than entertainment and social trends. He was smarter than them all, and stronger, even, as a villain. Insectiva, Sloppy Joe and the lot of them had nothing on _him_ \- or rather, Kid Rot. He was the biggest challenge, both in respect to combat, and a partner. But in the end, no matter how nice he was at the start, how much he appreciated his first and only two friends at Ringworm High, how passionate he was in the sciences, and how much care he showed me as my then-boyfriend, the whole thing ended with him treating me no better than everyone else.

Whatever. It was dark, and I was in a relatively desolate area on this street. I'd say around a hundred meters away from the scene was a safe place to fuck yourself while watching your ex-tormentor fall apart like a hot mess.

Slipping my hands out of my denim pockets, I pulled my white turtleneck up above my breasts and unbuckled my bra, sliding my palm up the left one. The other hand slid down my stomach, into the mouth of my jeans. Fingertips brushing over the lace of my underwear, I rubbed the soft mound of flesh over the thin piece of cloth, as my right hand's fingers squeezed around the buds at my breasts.

I bit over my lip as I breathed out an airy moan, gazing half lidded at the disheartening sight of my own tormentor, now rendered a helpless piece of shit. The tears that stained his face as he could do nothing but stand until the authorities came. That so-called tragic history of yours, that made everything okay for you to pour your shitty teenage angst on… How much does it mean to you now, baby?

I sped up the motions of my digits, continually watching half-lidded at the ongoing tragedy some distance away. Arching my back, the hand at my breast climbed up to grasp at the roots of my hair for something to grip on, as I felt a hazy feeling sweeping over my chest, rushing all over my body before my mind went blank at the melting sensation…

19:01. The authorities were here, along with several people crowding around, after inevitably catching sight of the fiery building slowly singe down as it crumbled, taking a smaller form.

The body was too burned to be examined, as was the kitchen - the source of any evidence that would have been available.

They held a funeral for the mother a week later. Not even a ceremony for a lost one, with grieving and mourning, speeches and tears, lamentation for a loved one's death could stop me from feeling glee.

* * *

But anyways, back to what's important now.

It's been a week since I uninvitedly attended the funeral, watching from a distance, and here he was in his temporary home, his brother in the room next door.

Oh my, what could I do with this poor little boy, and this beautiful blade? I toyed with the knife, swinging it in small circles with my index and middle finger, then gripped it by its' handle. Pressing it flat against my cheek, I pushed the side of the metallic, smooth surface, down along my face.

Well, I already killed his mum, so I was sure by now his mental state would be lowered enough… Kid Rot would do the rest of the mental torture for me. Yeah… I didn't need to kill his brother, I guess. This was enough. The older one wouldn't be a problem.

Feeling bored and unabashedly aroused, I climbed onto the bed, legs on either side of his body so I'd be straddling him. Quietly, and as swiftly as I could, I took the medical gloves from my messenger bag, slid them onto his lithe hands, adding a pair of metal cuffs to the finishing touch. He didn't stir in his sleep. _What a good boy._

Leaning forward, I could hear both the sound of my gaining pulse, and his hollow breaths, the latter noticeably steadier than the first. The two sounds combined made for a nice background ambience. It was like transitioning from a documentary to a first-hand exploration; the distance I kept from him back at his burning house was nothing like this. I could properly see the curvature and edges of each feature, every bundle of his golden hair, every pore, all in the dark… Before I took account of it happening, my hands had reached his face, the knife still held firmly in one of them.

Slowly, I could see the fluttering in his lashes, as he began to regain consciousness. Almost immediately as soon as his irises were revealed, I clapped a palm over his mouth, earning a look of shock, a muffled noise, and a few squirms between my legs. He raised his cuffed hands, pressed against my sternum - I could see the red glow in his fading black eyes, as Kid Rot threatened to appear. But the minute I leaned in closer, enough for him to see my face in the dark, held a finger to my lips with a "Shh…" He instantly stopped thrashing, inhaling deeply through his nostrils.

So he finally saw the face of his perpetrator. I pulled a grin, thinking about my plans from hereon.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **so basically, if you didn't get it, the backstory between Kid Rot/Chester and Abby was - when the grossologists got older (Abby and Chester: 18 and 17, Ty:16) Chester/KR reappears. The reason is unknown currently, (possibly because he couldn't get anywhere and he really wanted to be with Abby ;) later revealed, maybe) but he talks to Abby while he's in his non-evil mental state (Kid Rot flicks back and forth every now and then), and Paul (Lab Rat) helps stabilise his condition, or at least lessen it, so that he's back to the state where Kid Rot only appears when he's distressed/upset.**

 **Anyways, after that, Chester and Abby start dating, but Chester's personality changes gradually over time, being a more violent, short tempered, mentally and emotionally unstable guy, and he takes it out on Abby (abusive relationship pattern). It goes on for several months, and Abby doesn't know the exact reason why he became the way he is, but she suspects it's because of Kid Rot growing in him, since KR is a psychotic parasyte. But Chester has made a lot of excuses, throughout their relationship, and Abby hates it. So they broke up, Abby having gone slightly unstable herself.**

 **She decides to take revenge by killing his mom, and watches him in despair and mental conflict while enjoying it - so much that she gets a sexual kick out of it, because she's gona psychotic. Now, it's been some time, and ever since she saw him get mentally vulnerable, she decides to proceed with her plans, and now she's abducting him but anything further will be updated in the next chapter. :)**

 **Your reviews and favourites are appreciated, please critique me on the concept of this story and my writing style in as much detail as you want, I would like to improve on anything possible. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

At the touch of a cold, unidentified object on my face, and warmth from what felt like a person's fingertips, I regained consciousness - slowly opening my eyes, I was eager to see the identity behind those hands and what the cold object was.

But as soon as I caught sight of a shadow I didn't recognise in the dark, I felt a hand clamp over my mouth. It didn't take long until I realised that _this was no normal person, and that was not a warm greeting._

Immediately, _'Danger! Danger!' w_ as triggered in my brain, and I began thrashing about as much as I could - but my legs were tied, and my hands were cuffed. I forced my eyes open as I squirmed about, but I couldn't see properly and this person was too strong. I could feel Kid Rot waking up too, somewhere in my brain. He must have took notice of my accelerating pulse and building anxiety. But we both noticed that strangely, a pair of plastic gloves were slipped over my hands.

This person knew about Kid Rot.

"Shh…"

The figure leaned in, and as the moonlight shone through and unveiled their identity, I fell limp to the bed, no longer feeling the need to thrash about anymore. Even if I realised she was holding a knife by my face. Because I couldn't get upset or feel anything other than bewilderment, and terrible _confusion_ , when I saw Abby kneeling over me, wearing an expression I'd never seen her with before.

Of course, at first glance, there was nobody else I could think of, when I saw their long, red, coppery hair draped all over their back, and overflowing around my head. She had leaned in close, so close that even Kid Rot himself, I knew, felt pinned to their place inside the security of my mind.

* * *

We were in a silver grey BMW - how Abby found the money to buy this four wheeled drive, I didn't know. _Maybe she stole it._ _I mean, it's pretty reasonable, seeing as how she_ kidnapped _me._ The reason behind why she abducted me, let alone appeared at all was far more of a mystery I wanted to uncover first. I was still wrapped up like a worm by the ropes at my legs, and cuffed with gloves still, sitting in the seat beside the driver. I looked to my left, and a figure with her head hooded over sat laid back, her bare legs extended over the wheel, white trainers on both feet. We had driven to the parking lot of a separate building, a few miles away from the foster care home my brother and I had been placed in just a week ago, since the death of my mother. I couldn't locate where my dad was, and neither could the authorities.

We were in a relatively secluded part of the dim, indoor space. The parking lot was so empty and spacious that even the dropping _thunk_ of a bottle cap could echo like mad. My eyes traced back to Abby, who hadn't spoken a word to me since hushing me back at that room. I was dying to hear her voice, for some reason. I couldn't get upset at the situation at all, and Kid Rot didn't seem to show any desire to come out, either. I guess both of us were more fascinated, curious than anything right now. _Well, guess we meet eye to eye on something, for once._

Leaning forward, I studied Abby's face at an angle, her eyes were dull, staring at nothing ahead outside the car window, cobalt blue eyes gazing straight through the parking lot. A cigarette was lightly clamped between her teeth, and both arms were sluggishly placed with one folded onto her elevated lap, one dangling off the outside of her car window. _The window._ The window of the car was pulled open, but I didn't think she did that out of a lack of caution, but more because she knew I wouldn't scream, somehow. She didn't fear getting caught. Still, even if we were on the more quiet side of the parking lot, the entrance to the mall was only about thirty feet away. It was definitely within hearing distance of a large crowd. Did she still not fear the possibility?

What was this woman planning? _Woman_. I realised that was the first time I used such a grown up word to describe her - I hadn't seen her since several years ago, after the breakup. Not only that but she was _smoking_ , and she knew her biology well enough not to disadvantage herself while underage. How old was she now?

Tired of the silence, I uttered a single word. "Hey…" Desperately hoping for a reply, and that she wouldn't give me the silence treatment.

Taking out her cigarette with the outer hand, she quietly croaked "What's up…". It was so casual, it was like she didn't even seem to take notice of the fucking situation. Was this what she did on a daily basis, kidnapping people, or was I just fucking overreacting?

"What the hell's going on? How'd you know where I live?" I made sure not to raise my voice. "Why'd you suddenly appear now of all times? What've you been doing?" I didn't hold back one bit as the questions overflowed in my mind, one after the other. What did this _woman_ do, while she was growing up? What kind of person did she become while I was gone growing into myself?

I decided to wait out, let her take her time, as long as I got answers. I was the one at loss here, so I couldn't order her around.

Without a word, she folded in the outer elbow hanging off the window, took the cigarette in between her fingers, adjusted it properly into her lips, and inhaled. For some reason, I didn't see the exhalation smoke when she took it out, turned, put her legs back down and sat properly. Then she dropped the cig into her ashtray mug. It was kept in the cupholder of the car.

She rolled the windows up.

 _What's going on with you, Abigail Archer? This isn't like you. Grossologists don't just go around kidnapping people and smoking their lungs away. It's stupid, and smoking's just bad for your health. When did you get so dull? You look almost dead. That's far from the Abigail Archer I knew, not even close. Where's Abby?_ My thoughts raced around my head, overwhelmed by the drastic personality change. It was almost like a Disney star who just left the industry, and started doing their own _adult stuff_ , no longer giving a shit about what little kiddies in their former audience thought of them. Though, Abby was now just a straight up criminal.

Abby stayed silent, _dead_ silent, her posture slacked and effortless, facing me and looking downwards. But then only that cobalt gaze flicked up to greet me. She readjusted, getting up a little more, and leaned in. Then she sharpened her gaze. _Then_ I thought, she was going to hurt me.

But she didn't.

Her dull cobalt orbs looked hollow, and they echoed back nothing. That scared me. _This definitely isn't the Abby I know. This isn't_ Abby. _This was someone else. This was the person who wore that expression I'd never seen Abby wear before._

It was like she was letting me study her. So I did. Her skin was a much paler shade of cream than the last time I saw her. _She must have stayed indoors a lot._ Her copper coloured hair looked as though it was festered with hints of red. Its' length was only longer, so I guessed she left it uncut as it was, draping over her white and lavender striped sweater.

I got lost, caught in the flow of studying the older version of Abigail Archer, the update of her two years after we broke up.

Before I could react, she grabbed my chin with her index finger and thumb, pulled me in close. The last thing I saw was a mouthful of cigarette smoke ribbons, crawling out of her lips, as she fitted herself between the gap of my mouth. _So that's where the smoke went._

 _Man, girl could sure hold her breath. She's probably still training or hasn't been smoking for too long, if she still has that much capacity in her lungs._

Her lips tasted sweet, strangely cold, it was probably from the exposure to the winter air. But her tongue was warm, reassuringly, and the cigarette smoke made it taste even hotter. The moist and heated muscle moved in a way that was like cigarette smoke itself, winding and unraveling on mine until my mind was hazy from the havoc - unsure of whether it was from the smoke, her taste, perhaps both. And after kissing Abby for the first time in ages I thought: _maybe she_ was _just Abby, after all._ I had felt this before with her. I had no idea what was going on, but screw it.

Unfortunately too soon, she pulled away right when the smoke was all gone. I had half a mind to pull her back in, and kiss her again for just a bit longer. But I had cuffs around my wrists.

Wordlessly, she turned on the car. I guess I was gonna get the silent treatment after all.

My chest ached, feeling deprived. " _Fucking answer me!"_ I screamed, unable to contain my curiosity, anger, and sadness. If she was trying to work me up, just to get a kick out of it, it was definitely working, I'd tell her that. Kissing me like a lover and heating me up, then pulling away just to give me nothing…

Kid Rot threatened me at my roots of thought, but he didn't make it all the way out. Both of us were still waiting to see something. "What's going on in your head right now? Just say something, _fucking anything,_ please."

I didn't care anymore whether she would hit me or not. I needed some fucking answers. It made me angry, dammit, how powerless I was.

More silence. _Just be patient. She might answer._ I was left with the rumbling of the car engine, as it stayed immobile but continued running.

Eventually, she turned the keys, and switched the car off. Then, with a solemn look, she turned back to me, and I stared, I _watched_ those lips move. " _Now_ you finally let me have a voice?" She gave me a hard gaze, the colour of darkened, mottled blue-grey.

Her question baffled me, and I couldn't answer her, or think of anything she could possibly be talking about. Then it hit me, and my mouth dropped slightly open.

Months of yelling, throwing things and accusing her. Looks, expressions came back to my head, where Abby would just stay silent each time as she would hear me out - no, she was forced to listen to me scream at her for everything, and everyone. Not once did she ever talk about it with Ty, Lab Rat, Petunia, Andy or anyone for the matter. Not just because any of us didn't have friends close enough at school, but because she did it out of respect, and the gradually decreasing sympathy she had for me, at the time.

"I'm sorry." was all I managed to mutter, before looking down at my feet.

"Ha!" She scoffed, dropping slack into her seat, looking straight out ahead, clearly fed up. " _Now_ you're sorry?"

"I-"

"No need." She held up a hand, her way of saying _shut the hell up_. "You're about to repay me, anyway, or rather, I'm _making_ you repay me, whether you like it or not. Don't worry, you'll like it. I promise."

There was no way I could find an answer to that. I wasn't surprised that she was gonna punish me, of course. I deserved it, whatever the hell it was, but what kind of punishment was there, that a person could like? Surely punishment was meant to be painful, wasn't it?

Abby turned the keys, and the car started up again, steadily rolling out of the parking lot. We were out in the open again, greeted by a black sky. What time was it?

"What do you mean by that? What kind of punishment could a person _like_?"

"What do you think?" She broke the smoothness of the drive, making a sharp turn to the left. I heard the tires skid from the excessive friction.

"Abby, please, tell me, I'm fucking helpless." My headache began to kick in, a bolt of pain striking me straight through my cortex. "… _fuck!"_ I cursed under my breath, wincing. _Not now, Kid Rot!_

It seemed to comply to me, because it went away immediately, and so did the pain. "Hm… Tell me, was that what I… _think,_ it is?" The redhead drawled out nonchalantly, as she swerved to the right, driving like a mad woman. I glanced at the wheel, and neon-lit digits behind it displayed _80mph_.

 _Eighty?! Eighty miles per hour… shit, this girl's learned some stuff in the mean time._

Nonetheless, I answered, "That was _him,_ alright."

"Hm…"

"Why?"

"Just curious." Man, this girl really was getting what she wanted, just because she felt like it. I guess that was how much power she managed to hold over me. "Just for your information, don't worry, _you'll_ like it too." She glanced at me, hinting a faint smile. It was small, but I definitely saw it. So did Kid Rot, and he knew she was talking to him too. "And there's no point resisting. You know what you're wearing." She reminded me.

Kid Rot stayed obedient throughout the entire ride. I guess for curiosity's sake, he was being nice for once.

* * *

We got to a rather familiar part of this town, but before I could take a good look, Abby drove straight into a block, where a giant mansion or something should have been; the architecture looked old and abandoned, like it was in the midst of being torn down but it was left half broken. It looked like there were only about two stories before it was torn down or something. Bits of concrete were showing, half covered by chipped, cracked paint.

Since the entire first floor of the mansion was practically open, as if deconstructed, she managed to drive right into the middle of the building, and fully stopped, parked in the middle of the wreckage. Broken and no longer usable furniture was strewn across the floor.

Nobody came to clean this place after whatever disaster happened here.

"Where is this?" I said, as soon as the engine fell silent upon shutdown.

"Doesn't matter." Before I could say anymore, she took me by surprise, pressing a button, moving my seat back.

"Whoa…!" I swayed a little at the sudden motion, but before I knew it, she pushed another button somewhere, and my seat leaned back. Being tied up and cuffed, I lost my balance and fell flat facing up. _What the hell is she doing?_

Swiftly climbing out of her seat, she made her way over to mine, and began undoing the rope at my shins. She must have practiced this for some time now, because it didn't take long for her to undo that matrix of knots. Tossing away the rope to the backseat, she pushed my legs slightly apart, propping up her knees carefully on either side of my waist, Abby straddled me in a rather suggestive position. "Whoa, whoa _whoa…!_ What're you doing?"

Her eyes were cold, once again, giving me the look that echoed back nothing. No empathy, or any hint of thought. I realised at the moment, that Abigail Archer had literally taken the word 'psycho' to the next level.

So there she was, this psychotic, but _beautiful_ girl with fiery red hair, yet lonely blue eyes was staring me down, _literally_ pinning me to my spot in her dangerously _short_ black skirt. Was this what she'd planned?

"I told you." Her tone was cold, but her eyes gave it a drip of lust. "You're going to like it." Leaning forward, she extended her hands down to my stomach, sliding up my chest. I could clearly hear the sound of skin on fabric rustling. Her fingertips teased the hard surface of my sternum. Branching apart her digits, she spread across to stroke my clavicles, before snaking up to grasp gently at the roots of my hair.

But my eyes stayed glued to Abby. The Abby with that twisted, somewhat _accomplished_ look on her face. The corners of her lips turned up into a somewhat sadistic smile, as if taunting a child. Then she leaned into my face steadily, and I saw everything happening. I saw the rim of her sweater drooping as it hung off her neck, exposing a pair of breasts in dark lingerie. I could see her long, coppery red mane sweep over her back, shoulders, arms, until they hung around both our faces from her head, like curtains. They blocked out everything, as if she had planned it - almost like Medusa charming me with her serpentine locks. All I could focus on were her eyes.

Inevitably, she closed in on me, and in shock, my lips parted on their own, as if welcoming her. Abigail's lips were thick, luscious in mine, as my tongue caught her _sweet_ taste. It was getting hard to breathe, and the heat started rushing to my head in waves, like I had consumed alcohol. My pulse raced, loud enough for me to hear them thrumming in my ears. I wondered if she felt the same.

Opening my eyes, I was slightly startled to see that her eyes had been open the entire time, watching me carefully. Then a thought followed: Did Abby _like_ being dominant?

There was the rationality in me that screamed: _what about her abduction of you? What about the kiss? What about her getting mad at you? How's she going to punish you, truly?_ But my animal instincts took over, focusing all my senses towards her, and that was when Abby took her lips off of mine, and planted them gently on my neck. She bit into the flesh, sucking hard at my Adam's apple.

" _Oh… fuck."_ I cursed under my breath, as my brain started taking notice of what was happening down there. The blood was rushing downwards, and my brain started getting hazy, sleepy, but my now completely turgid length was urging me to stay awake. I _had_ to be.

"What's the matter?" Abby noticed my condition, and slowly distanced herself from me, but staying rooted in her position. "Is something the matter?" She taunted me, knowing _exactly_ what was going on, because the minute she finished her question, she ground her hips down on me, rubbing against something very sensitive, on the exact spot.

"…!" my breath hitched at the moment, but I took notice of her expression as well. And to my surprise, her eyes had grown half-lidded and glossy, lips and cheeks having gotten rosy. Was she aroused as well?

What followed my thoughts completely blasted away all rationality in me, as she began to grind her hips steadily, swaying back and forth. The friction was exhilarating, bringing me instantly higher with adrenaline. I could feel the raw pleasure running down my hips, even if we weren't having much direct skin-to-skin contact. I had never done anything like this with Abby before, let alone done something this obscene at all.

Throughout the friction, the grinding began to get a little smoother, as it began to feel somewhat more lubricated on her end. I'd read about this while studying biology but… The possibility of her being wet rose to my mind _._ As she seemed to do so, Abby's grinding started to compel a spine-shivering moan from her. Shit… Was this what Abby sounded like when she was seriously turned on? Having learned of that, heat rushed to my face, my spine going numb.

With every noise she made, my spine went number, and the muscles at my stomach went completely weak. How the hell had I not known that this girl could sound so _fucking cute?_

"Oh god… Abby…!" My mind was in turmoil - I had never known this was possible, but I think _he_ was feeling this new sensation too, and, he definitely couldn't contain himself as much as I could. Strange. Never knew parasites could share this many sensations with their host - well, he was abnormal after all.

I wasn't aware of how it happened, but suddenly, I found my wrists had broken free from the cuffs, and I growled with a conscience full of lust. My hands were now gripping tightly at her hips, startling Abby as she squeaked, her eyes much wider with shock. Her eyes were still glazed with that hazy look. Hands still gloved, my energy went into an overdrive, and my torso flung up, causing her to lose balance.

Abby ended up clinging to my neck for dear life, but I didn't stop grinding against her. Oh, it was still going alright.

But my hips had their own pace now, though I felt like half of the energy wasn't mine, and I knew who it came from. My voice had grown gruff, slightly deeper than normal, and I found myself panting, grunting as I pushed and rubbed against her - I became so sensitive that I could almost feel the folds of her skin beneath the thin fabric of her underwear.

Abby almost screamed, when I bit into her neck while I ground into her, fast and hard like a deranged animal. Her breaths were definitely messed up in their pattern, ragged, and desperately erotic. Sweat secreted from both of our bodies, and I could see the beads gleam on her skin while she made lusty expressions; I couldn't hold it anymore.

At that moment, I grasped hard, digging my nails through the gloves, into the waist of her skirt. I sealed it a strong and hard thrust, bringing one hand to grasp at the back of her sweater so she wouldn't fall over. Simultaneously, Abby's moans got loud, broken in rhythm, and I swore to god she had tears in her eyes as I felt her convulsing involuntarily below, her delicate fingers clenching onto my nape and my hair as I climaxed.

Her breaths got shallower, slower and quieter, as did mine. Everything was silent for a while, and I took in the sensations, of Abby's chest still pressed against mine. Her arms were still draped over my shoulders, loosely hung around my neck. _He_ seemed pretty satisfied as well. We shared the same sensations so I knew he was just as exhausted as I was.

I waited for her to say something. It was as though she had fallen asleep.

 _We practically fucked - almost - in a car in the middle of a trash heap._

But her first words after we had both cooled down chilled me to the bone, her head still hung over my shoulder, as she whispered in my ear. "So… How does it feel knowing you just did such an obscene thing in the place where your mother died?"

It was like a knife skid down my back, cold and sharp. My eyes widened, my body froze, cold sweat started to run from my head down my back, and my blood went thick. "…This place…"

Lifting her head up, the same twisted expression she wore back in my room greeted me murderously, and my skin literally _crawled._ Her eyes were huge like a fish, as she smiled maliciously from ear to ear. There was nothing on this woman that indicated any traces of sanity anymore.

 _Mother._ She died here. _I was at the building where the fire killed my mom._

 _I just fucked in such an important, sacred place and…!_

"That's right!" Abby's voice grew raspy, shaking with thrill. She was gone. _Abby Archer was gone._ The look she gave me at that very moment looked _nothing like a fucking human._

"GET ME OUT!" I scurried from my seat, pulling my legs with me from beneath Abby. "GET ME THE FUCK OUT!" I was scared shitless, I was going to die if I stayed any longer with this creature in front of me. I knew at that instant, because how else could my mother have died, if Abby was the one who knew what really happened to this house?

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hey everyone! So originally I was going to lengthen this and continue the chapter much longer, but I thought it would be best if I just cut it off at here.**

 **So basically, the story's quite straightforward in this chapter: In short, Chester got tricked into doing some steamy car hanky panky with Abby, only to find out that she was the psycho killer who killed his mom in the fire, and that he just did something terribly obscene in such a place, where his mom died. Yep. Abby had it all planned to make Chester feel like shit in the end. It was all an act - or is it?**

 **We'll never know.**

 **...**

 **...**

 **...**

 **Just kidding. I'm writing another chapter soon. :) This is actually all based on a dream I had - This would have been the actual ending of the story, but just for the sake of the grossology fandom, I'm gonna add a bonus chapter xD**

 **Hope you all liked it up to here so far, your reviews on the concept of the story or the writing style of it would be greatly appreciated, comment on any of those in as much detail as you want, I'm looking forward to making any improvements on my writing ^_^**


	3. Chapter 3

Small, irregular gasps could be heard in the dark. They were quiet, but airy, clearly stricken. What else could he do?

Nobody could see within the hollow, lonely mind of Chester, or find the seething smile of Abby Archer in the dark. He'd only seen her smile twice, both times making him feel held at knifepoint by just _looking_ into her eyes - actually, nobody could be sure whether she was smiling right now or not. It was dark, and anyone who walked into this darkness would undoubtedly feel blinded… Yet, it was the kind of blindness where you could feel the _hint_ , the presence of a smile. The feeling was indescribable, and there was no way Chester could put it all into words - God knew how hard he tried, but it was really only something that could be _felt_. He knew somewhere in the void, she was sneering at his grief - and without the need for evidence, he just knew her spirit was currently billowing with eerie joy, watching him, the way one would simply know that pain was a bad thing.

Chester's breaths continued to rapidly rise and fall, each one unevenly short and shallow. He lay on the ground… No, even _that_ he was unsure of. Was he really on the ground? It felt like it. He could feel the pull of gravity keeping him on the surface, and there was nothing on the soles of his feet - yet at the same time, he felt a falling sensation rising, creeping up his body. It felt like he was slowly pulled by some force, be it gravity or a creature, off the edge of a platform.

Somehow, this place didn't feel real. It was also part of that instinctual knowledge of Abby's presence somewhere here, but it felt like this place was literally enclosed, void of exits. More than some delicate dome of delusion created by his mind. Was this place even somewhere existing on the Earth?

* * *

Clonk. The clean hit of his head on concrete, solid impact, proceeding to ring in his ears.

Chester's head hit the floor of the ruin, unable to gather his thoughts for a split second from the force of gravity. Like an old memory card from a recording device, his mind glitched, before regaining clearness in his vision. Then he saw a car. Then he saw what was _in_ the car. Cold, heavy sweat lined his head, nape and back, like he had just walked fully clothed through a cold shower. Abigail Archer was sitting calmly at the seat in which he had sinned, and betrayed his mother.

She propped herself on one elbow, on the seat's headrest, her legs draped to one side of the leather seat as though she was a fairytale creature, perched on a tree branch, eyeing Chester like an owl. She may not have had its' supersonic hearing, but Chester felt as though every trembling pulse, thrumming at his ears, could be heard.

Then, slowly, she descended to the rubble with him.

Her expression regarded him like a mother to her baby. But the erratic twitches that followed in her crawl, was telling Chester otherwise. Frankly speaking, Chester wasn't sure if it was the right choice to sit and wait for her, because the look in her eyes were so dear to him, so tempting, as if to say, _stay with me_. For God's sake, she was approaching him slowly for a reason! By being slow, she was letting him slip out of her sight any time he pleased! So _why was she doing this? Why bring him here at all?_

So he thought, with half a mind, that he should sit still, wait and see what was to come. But his other half could not, and would not forget the upturned curve of her lips, as she watched him lose his innocence in the death place of his mother. So within the affectionate eyes, and those rosy lips, he saw the sneer, the smile so full of incomprehensible, thrilling, excitement, that it couldn't possibly smile any further.

It felt like ages, yet seconds were cutting by quick, as each frame movement passed. Unsure of what to do, Chester did not even inch back across the ground on his palms, rooted, unable to stand.

* * *

.

..

...

?

No, didn't he just…? … He was so close to remembering.

…

Chester couldn't recollect what had happened, for him to wind up in this place. Even if for a second, he thought he grasped at a possible memory. But like street lights on a passing car, the light faded from his grip.

He had been lying flat for a while now, on this ground. Abby had been staring at him for a while too. He knew it, even if he heard nothing, saw nothing. Nor could he smell the sweet scent of his ex-girlfriend. He knew what she smelt like, as he'd come so close with her so many times. He had embraced her, held her head near his, grabbed the back of her nape, and kissed her, tasted her, smelt the fine air of her presence when he buried his face into her shoulder - he was with her… No, when did he meet her last?

Come to think of it… Abigail Archer. What did she even look like? All the data that he'd stored in his head when remembering her: Red hair, blue eyes, cream skin, tall, slender, athletic, smart, always wearing casual and comfortable attire for her own sake, never to impress people. All of this information was nothing more than words.

The actual image of her was starting to fade from his memory - he was starting to lose her face, the more he tried to connect the dots. Abigail… Archer… Abby… Archer… Abby…

 _Tell me, Abby, what's to become of me?_

 _Why do you smile at me?_

 _..._

 _Why are we here?_

* * *

"c̢̪ḥ͇e͓̫̪ͅs̰̻̳̗̼t̗̥̻̬̯͈͙er̖̻̥̗…̪͙̥̩  
̛  
͚͙͓̱̺̩͓C̝̺̙͔͈͇H́E̦͇̘̙S̢̲͎T̙͓̙̥͎͘Ę̙Ṟ̢̜͓."  
͍̻͙̟̘͓̼

He heard her voice, clear and genuine. His name sounded ethereal when pronounced by her voice. Delicate, floating, just there in the air. Not sharp and directed at him as a person.

 _I dare you._ He thought to himself, and once and for all, he froze up completely.

His body welcomed her, invited her to move closer to him. He wasn't going anywhere now.

Her dynamics were slow, but eye pinned straight on him. The anticipation was real.

With each crawl, her smile slowly faded. Soon, any intent to do anything to him became obscure, her expression too unclear to decode.

This tension. It was like being back in the car all over again.

He saw her burgundy locks draped over her back, loose fabric hanging off her body, exposed clavicles and flesh. The skin of her knees and palms pressing against the hard concrete as she crawled over.

When he saw those pale cobalt orbs right before his, he felt a pair of hands grab at his face.

* * *

Hands.

In the dark, after waiting long and hard for his memories to return, they came back, with one touch from all ten of Abigail Archer's fingers grasping either sides of his face. He couldn't see her, still, but now, at least he could feel her alright; solid, definite… He could truly say he wasn't alone in the void.

Once again in the same, suggestive position, he felt her inner thighs pressing over his hips, as she straddled him. Sitting upright, he snaked his hands up on her waist; he had to get a clue of her exact form. This had to be Abby.

 _Abby!_

He swiftly pounced onto her, toppling the balance over. Now he was on top. He wasn't tied. He didn't have the gloves on anymore, nor the ropes. He could move however he wished.

Abby could feel his grasp on the sides of her face, alright. Slowly, both of them heard sizzling, like an egg on the frying pan. They didn't have to see to know what was going on.

Kid Rot was here too.

A sharp intake of breath.

Hissing at the pain of her dissolving cheeks, Abby squeezed her eyes shut. Chester didn't know why she didn't just push him off instead of accepting the pain - but no matter. He'd sinned enough already. This made no difference. He was sure Abby knew just as much as he did - what it was like having people they cared about taken from them, one by one. Chester, his father, then his mother. For Abby, it was two years of emptiness. Emptiness caused by the quiet blond boy who joined school, made friends with them and immediately disappeared. Even if Ty merely thought of him as a toxic psycho now gone rogue, he regarded him as their strongest enemy ever. To Abby, Chester was, and would always be more than that. There was depth, background to him before he got possessed before her eyes. When those two painful years had passed-

A _pang_ struck her in the chest, and she didn't want to think about it anymore. She had already spent the last two years trying to get over the painful side of it. Shooting her arms up, Abby grabbed at the straight, damp tresses that hung down to Chester's nape. Then with a firm grip, she pulled his face to hers, locking into a heated, rough kiss.

It shocked Chester. He had dissolved a part of her face, yet this girl wasn't just taking it, but _demanding it_.

Swiftly moving his hands down to her belly, he clung to the fabric there - he didn't need to make her move. The cotton of her sweater slowly began to thin out, rotting itself away. Taking control over the technique, - one he never thought he'd use his powers for - he moved his palms up to her chest, shoulders, arms - now only fragments of her sweater remained as patches on the floor. Her skin was fully exposed, and he could feel it - He could feel Abby Archer's skin, glide along the smoothness of it as they kissed like this.

Her mouth was slightly numbed. She wasn't being touched directly by the main source of rot - his fingertips, that was. So when another part of him touched her, she only lost bits of her sensations - less severe, but nonetheless an active effect.

Though, for the most part, she could feel Chester's tongue sliding along hers, and she bit him on his lip. The harder she bit him, the more he would bite her back - that did the trick. Going numb was not going to ruin this for them.

But all too soon, he heard some more dissolving under his fingers - every part of her that he touched, like her clothes, would dissolve. Her skin was no exception - though it would of course be tougher, and therefore, slower. They could last for a little longer.

Ragged breaths poured endlessly from Abby's lips, overlapped with the wet sounds of their kisses.

Pulling away from the kiss for a second, his corrosive fingers crept up, tracing her abdomen, sternum, the edges of her breasts, her clavicles, the ridges of her neck, and her trembling lips. Clearly sensitive, Chester pressed his index finger lightly against it.

A quick gasp escaped her lips momentarily, but she managed to hold it down. The skin of her lip burst open in the small part where he had disturbed the flesh, leaving her with a chapped bottom lip.

It made it harder for Abby to smile, but the pain of stretching her lip - the tearing of dried skin, light bleeding… The sensation also came as a part of the package, and she couldn't help but grin harder.

"Quit playing, will you?" Abby whispered, and for the first time in the darkness, Chester heard her speak. It excited him, carried him away, and Abby proceeded to grip at the collar of his shirt, tearing it open slightly.

"As you wish." He responded, obliterating all morals in him, and suddenly, he wasn't nice. He clenched hard onto her lower hips, digging his nails in.

Within moments, her skirt sizzled down to shreds of black denim, and his nails, penetrating her skin, sent a quick bolt of pain right through her skin, straight into her bones - literally, because he could corrode the things he touched.

That drove Abby into a mental corner, and with not much pain tolerance left, she hissed at the contact. "Agh... Shit…" Here came the cursing. Wincing at first, her face contorted, but quickly melted back into a grin, as if to laugh it off.

So Abby found this game of pain a rather pleasurable experience. Testing his limits, he dragged those nails up her waist, clawing her sides. She arched her back with a shriek.

She was shocked by the contact at first, but then burst into a little fit of giggles, when Chester bent down, this time biting into her shoulder.

Pain exploded in Abby.

"Oh, _fuck_!" Abby's voice heightened, a seductive lull to her tone, and Chester found his spine going numb again at her noises.

He felt her fingers, which were just at his neck, now grasping onto his fair locks. He wasn't sure if she was in deep pain or actually feeling ecstatic from the sensations. But her knees folded up and clung to his waist, _pulling him in,_ so that may have been telling him something.

His fingers trailed down gently this time, like petals falling in the air, until he pinched at the rim of her underwear, and now she was fully exposed. Twisted into a crazy-wide grin, Chester gently stroked her somewhere with a finger, and it got dripping, sopping wet.

So she was enjoying this.

Abby lay, legs slightly parted as she heard the rustle of clothing. Then, as the sizzling of her smaller initial wounds faded away, all fell silent.

Suddenly, she found a pair of hands holding onto her inner thighs, and her skin began to crawl from the mild rotting.

He heard Abby take in a sharp, quick inhale. Leaning forward, he kissed the tip of her nose, startling her in the dark. But she gave only a small jolt of surprise, before falling slack in her muscles, lying obediently, hands still in his hair.

Then, feeling something hard and hot lining up with her entrance, it made a wet, sticky sound as it came in contact. It was a gentle prod, but she felt it on the exact spot. Fear and zeal spiked her chest, every hair on her body standing, as her hands descended down from his hair to his nape. He sealed the deal, with a single thrust in, and a shout of pain from her.

His length had torn through the outer skin, rubbing into her wet, slippery inner walls, as they squeezed around him. Abby heard Chester's breath hitch - he was feeling good.

With his hands on the ground, propped up, he felt her arms squeeze around his neck, as did her legs around his waist. She was whimpering, possibly in pain, but she told him. "Be ruthless with me."

That fucking did it.

He moved his hips back, and thrusted some more, speeding up. With each slam, a high moan would spill from her lips, and ragged breaths fell from his. He had half a mind about the kind of place this was in - but he didn't care anymore. Chester, or Kid Rot, was too caught up in the feeling of Abby Archer's nails digging into his shoulders, legs squeezing his hips like a boa on its' prey, throwing obscene screams and cries into the emptiness of the night. God, _fuck him_.

Slowly feeling himself drift from rationality, his eyes fixed onto her, and so did his hands on her body. Never once lifting a finger off her skin, they sunk deeper in through her outer shell.

That made Abby's face contort, her breaths now heavily disturbed, louder and he swear to god she _mewled._ Amorous gasps complimented her lulling cries, and tears streaming down her cheeks like a shameless whore. Wherever his hands went, whether it slid down her stomach, her curves, or around the smooth edges of her breasts, it just felt explosively good. Everything she'd contained within her for the past several years, came hurling out of the thrashing and squirms of her body, her voice, the power in her jaws as she bit into Chester's skin.

Chester got rougher by the minute, now slamming into Abby like tidal waves, sweat beginning to bead around his head and back. She could feel it too, and soon they were gliding their hands and fingers over each other's bodies. When he bent down his neck, and closed his teeth around her nipples, Abby gave an unevenly higher shout and her chest jumped. Correct move.

Abby sighed, in a way that was just downright gorgeous to him, eyes glossy and face rosy. He saw fragments of her cheek, and the rest of her body slowly breaking away at where he touched her - and he didn't know how to feel. He didn't want to care. She held him tighter, closer to her as she neared her climax. It was much stronger than any feeling she'd ever had, even stronger than back inside the car. Her sensitivity was picking up - she could feel her hips right up to her ribs slowly decomposing, and on her shoulders down her forearms. It wouldn't be long before Chester would be fucking a carcass.

Hearing him grunt more frequently, and pound stronger and faster into her, she dug her nails into his back. The sharpness of her talons were nothing compared to the heavy doses of pleasure he got, and without warning, Abby came, her head falling back gently to the ground, shaky moans escaping her throat. Feeling her clench suddenly tighter on him, her loins convulsing as she came around his cock, and before he could do anything, he realised he had crashed into his limit as well.

With a final, strong slam inside her - causing Abby to jolt with pleasure - he let go of his mind, blanking out.

Raw, saturated pleasure hit them both in strong waves, sweeping through their minds and leaving nothing.

Abby was surprisingly quiet, when she whimpered, and gasped one last time. Their heads went empty of thought, but the world around them, the void seemed to darken.

He remembered the dark, unknown hollowness that surrounded them, and realised this wasn't a real place. Nor did he know if all that happened between him and Abby just now was real, or a delusion.

But it didn't matter anymore.

He wasn't alone. He had Kid Rot, Abby, and himself.

It didn't matter if they weren't real, so long as he didn't have to suffer this world of obscurity alone.

It didn't matter anymore.

It didn't matter anymore.

…

* * *

 **A/N:**

So that's basically what happened. Thanks for reading till the end and being so patient - I have exams coming up again so I'll be offline for a while. though, who knows, I might pop in if something strikes my inspiration.

Please leave a review, I'd like to know if I can improve on certain aspects! Thanks, your opinions and constructive criticisms will be much appreciated :)


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